Lone Wolf
by Blood-Hawk-531
Summary: Noble Six is left behind to fight the Covenant, and die fighting. Or so they thought. AU where Six survives Reach, and gains a new companion from an unlikely source.
1. Last Stand

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bungee, 343 Industries, Halo Reach, or Noble Six (but I wish I did, and if I did, I wouldn't be here now!) **

**EQUIPMENT:**

** -HELMET: OPERATOR****  
**

**- SHOULDERS: ODST**

** -CHEST: HP/HALO**

** -KNEES: FJ/PARA**

** -ACCESSORY: TACTICAL/TRAUMA KIT**

** -FOREARM: TACTICAL/TACPAD**

**COLOURS:**

** -VISOR: SILVER**

** -PRIMARY: STEEL**

** -SECONDARY: GREEN**

**A/N: Welcome, welcome one and all, to the newly remastered first chapter of Lone Wolf! I have taken a long leave of absence recently, and having had time to look over what I have written. I have decided that I majorly screwed up in terms of the plot and pacing of this story the first time, and so I have started to partially rewrite the story. I will not delete this story as is, but I will be performing changes to it on a chapter-by-chapter basis. At the time of writing, this chapter is the only one that has been redone, and if any chapters don't make sense considering the events of the previous one in future, that simply means I haven't gotten to fixing them yet. Thank you.**

**LONE WOLF**

**CHAPTER 1: LAST STAND**

Six watched the _Pillar of Autumn _disappear into space. _Give 'em hell, Keyes, _she thought. She walked over to the base of the MAC cannon, stopping only to crouch by Emile's body.

"Well, at least you took them with you." she said, glancing at the corpses of the Elites around him, one still with the kukri lodged in its throat. She gently removed the dog tags from around his neck, hanging them next to Jorge's, Kat's, and her own - Carter's were unrecoverable, due to his sacrifice - and clamped his shotgun to the magnetic plates on her back, next to her DMR. Lastly, she removed the sheath from his upper arm, and, pulling the kukri from the dead alien, slid the knife in, and strapped the sheathed kukri onto her own armor.

"Let's do this." Six muttered, spotted a large group of Phantoms and Spirits flying toward her position. She bounded up the ladder, into the control seat of the MAC, and opened fire on the incoming Covenant. The gun managed to take out about half of the incoming aircraft, but enough got through to land a sizable force. Grunts squealed, like twisted caricatures of excited children. Jackals snarled, and Elites and Brutes roared their challenges at her. There was even the hulking shape of a pair of Hunters, behind the rest of the mob.

The Grunts and Jackals were the first into the fray, waving their weapons wildly. Six charged, unlimbering her pistol as plasma bolts and needler rounds flew around. She opened fire on the aliens, killing a large number of them before her ammunition ran dry and she was in their midst. Six hurled the pistol with inhuman force and accuracy, the unlikely projectile crushing the rebreather of a Grunt, yanked both her combat knife and Emile's kukri from their sheathes, and began killing.

The knives worked seemingly independently of each other, stabbing and cutting until Six's armor was painted with streaks and spatters of purple and turquoise gore. She impaled one Jackal, leaving the blades stuck in the corpse, and turned, dodging a flurry of needler rounds fired by one of the few remaining Grunts. Taking three long, quick strides to it, she snapped the terrified creature's neck, before flinging the corpse into yet another Jackal, and returning to the carcass of the first still with her knives lodged in it. Retrieving them, she turned and swung, ramming twenty centimetres of sharpened high-carbon steel through the gullet of a Skirmisher. The only remaining Grunt attempted to flee, flinging away its plasma pistol and resorting to loping on four limbs, but she caught up easily, knocking it to the ground and viciously caving the alien's skull in with an unforgiving, armoured boot.

A lucky shot from a Jackal's plasma pistol hit her, the overcharged shot leveling her shields, and a small salvo of plasma bolts from another Jackal impacted her across the chest and back. Six stumbled, groaning at the burning agony of plasma burning through her bodysuit in four places and losing her grip on her regular combat knife, but launched herself at the offender, grabbing the squawking bird-alien and bodily swinging it about, between her and a pair of its fellows to block their shots. Her meat-shield convulsed, howling in pain as crystalline spikes riddled its body; Six hurled the dying alien at its comrades as the shots supercombined and exploded, tearing the group apart. Again, she bucked suddenly at a searing pain in her shoulder, and looked to see her shoulder pierced by two shards of pink crystal, too short to be needler shots - shrapnel from the improvised living bomb, then. She stifled a groan as she yanked the fragments free and, pulling a canister of biofoam from her trauma kit as she wrenched her shoulder armor off, sprayed the wounds.

"Well?!" Six shouted at the remaining aliens - mostly Brute Minors, with the addition of a pair of Elite Zealots and with the so-far not engaged Hunters - rotating her arm to make sure she could still use it, and pulling out Emile's shotgun, while simultaneously sheathing the blood-soaked kukri. "Come get some, bastards!"

Enraged by the challenge, the Brutes and Zealots charged, roaring in fury, the Elites out in front and bearing their distinctive energy swords. Six jumped back, barely dodging a strike from the energy sword one of the Zealots carried, but was less lucky the second time, as the backswing cut through the front of her helmet, missing her face by mere millimetres. Seeing her HUD go dark, effectively blinding her, she tore the helmet off just in time to dodge another strike, ducking under the swipe and, grinning at the howl of pain from the other Zealot, who had evidently snuck up behind her, stuck her shotgun in the alien's abdomen. She fired, the Zealot's shields rendered useless at point-blank range, before pumping the shotgun and ramming the whole thing violently backwards, to smash directly into the second one's gut as well. Its breath explosively vacated its lungs with a long 'woof' sound, and Six took the opportunity to swivel, plant her shotgun's business end inside the gaping maw, and render the alien effectively headless with a spray of buckshot.

The Brutes fared no better. Their weak armour did little to protect them, and for the most part, their corpses sprawled to the ground riddled with shotgun pellets, or victimized by double-taps to the head, courtesy of her DMR, when the shotgun ran out. A single Minor managed to wrench the rifle from her grasp and fling it away, simultaneously knocking her to the ground with a punch to the chest. It attempted to finish the job in a fashion similar to how she had ended the Grunt not more than two minutes before. Rolling away from the heavy, clawed foot, she came to rest next to one of the downed Zealots. Snatching up the abandoned energy sword resting in the limp hand, she surged upward at the charging Brute. The sword was ignited and swung in the same motion, and moved in a seemingly lazy arc upward to cleave the alien open, vertically, from groin to sternum. The Brute's eyes bulged, and suddenly-twitching hands dropped the bruteshot that had been in their grasp, dropping to the split gut in a futile attempt to stem the flow of purple blood and the spilling of its entrails. The alien dropped to its knees, eyes clouding over, even as the purple-blue-white plasma blade came around again and separated its head from its shoulders.

Six heard a low, rumbling growl at that moment, right as the Hunters barged in, one smashing her off her feet and throwing her into a pile of wreckage that had once been a Spirit; she barely managed to keep her grip on the energy sword and not slash herself with it from the sudden acceleration. She leapt back to her feet, shouldering past the pain of the blunt trauma, and jumped on the Hunter, latching onto its back. As the giant thrashed, bellowing in fury, Six tore the kukri from its sheathe buried the blade to the hilt into the unarmoured flesh at the junction of the 'neck' and 'torso,' gripping the large knife as a handhold. With the pilfered energy sword, she swung repeatedly into the vulnerable 'neck' flesh, hacking the gestalt's head free of the rest of the body. The Hunter crumpled to the ground, 'headless,' and partially crushed a Brute corpse beneath its mammoth bulk. The remaining Hunter roared with rage, swinging its enormous sharp-edged shield at her with a speed that belied the thing's massive, unwieldy-looking frame.

Six ducked, and cleaved the Hunter's arm off at the elbow, half-watching the severed appendage continue moving past, a product of its own momentum. She saw the fuel rod cannon on the other arm glow a sickly, radioactive green as it primed to fire. Six's eyes widened, and knowing her energy shields could not take the hit she spun, sprinted toward where the severed arm had come to rest, and brought the heavy shield on it between her and the cannon with an apparent ease born of desperation. The amount of force from the shot actually forced her back a few feet, and the world was momentarily lit with an eerie glow reminiscent of Saint Elmo's fire. Six heaved the smoking lump of metal and scorched flesh to the side, and rammed the gestalt before it could fire again, blade leading. The energy sword tore easily through the vulnerable abdomen, and went straight through for its prongs to explode from the Hunter's lower back. She then wrenched the blade to one side, removing the sword in such a way that it very nearly bisected the massive creature above the waist.

As the goliath collapsed with a ground-shaking crash, Six did not drop her guard. She had counted more Elites than just that pair of Zealots. Where were they?

She came to a sudden realization. _Oh, hell. I'm surrounded, aren't I?_

As if on cue, five Elites in a circle around her dropped their Active Camouflage, plasma weaponry raised. And one, in armour as black as midnight, was holding an energy sword to her throat.

….

Special Operations Officer K'tal 'Varthikai looked at the female demon he was holding his sword to. It was looking at him with a hate-filled glare through a coating of sweat and the mingled blue, purple, and burnt orange blood of Covenant fighters, as well as its own carmine red. The armor that it wore was battered, scorched, and covered in dirt, the chestplate melted and warped by plasma damage, and was missing a shoulder plate. A plasma sword, looted from the corpse of a fallen brother, was gripped in a filthy gauntlet, the silvery metal handle, inscribed with fine runes, clashing with the ugly functionality of the human armour.

"Demon." he said, activating his translator. "Surrender. This world is dust, there is have nothing left to fight for. Surrender, and we will take you from this place."

The female chuckled humorlessly. "So you can torture me for the location of Humanity's homeworld?" - its eyes narrowed, and teeth were bared in a feral snarl - "Burn in _hell, _Covvie." The energy sword was dropped, and the demon exploded into acton before the hilt hit the ground. Two plasma grenades were pulled out, primed, and hurled simultaneously to adhere to the armour of two different Sangheili, where they promptly exploded with enough heat and a strong enough pressure wave to melt armour and cause his battle-brothers' chests to cave in like eggshells.

K'tal leapt back as the grenades detonated, killing both of the warriors they were stuck to, and maiming another who was unlucky enough to be caught in the blast. The warrior's entire left side was covered in plasma burns, and he writhed on the ground in agony. K'tal wished to end his brother's suffering, but the demon was the more immediate concern. It darted toward his remaining, uninjured subordinate as the detonation occurred. His brother was ended with quick, brutal efficiency, his throat crushed and nearly torn out by the gripping hand of the demon, and his plasma repeater snatched from nerveless talons.

….

Six swept the field with the plasma repeater. She knew there was one more Elite to deal with: the one who had held a sword to her. The Elite had probably reactivated its Active Camo by now, and that put her at an extreme disadvantage. Her helmet was destroyed, so she couldn't use the VISR function she had specially built into it.

The pained growls of the wounded Elite on the ground grew louder, and Six glared at the crippled alien. It was getting on her already frayed nerves, and against her training and better judgment, walked over to the alien, and crouched down, looking it in the eye as she set down the repeater and drew Emile's kukri.

"This is more than you deserve." she said, holding the blade to the Elite's neck. The alien held her gaze as she sliced its throat open, spilling the Elite's lifeblood onto the ground, and its eye glazed over in death. She heard the hum of an energy sword behind her.

She didn't bother to go for the plasma repeater, knowing that the Elite could easily kill her before she could get around to face it.

"Well?" she demanded. "Hurry up and get it over with."

"Why so eager to die, demon?" the Elite asked.

Six shot back: "I'm on the ground, you are in a perfect position to kill me. So why don't you? Are you too _honourable _for that?" she spat. "Some honour."

The Elite paused for a moment. "What do you mean?" it asked.

"You know exactly what I mean, _child-killer."_ Six snarled. "How many civilians have you murdered, personally?"

She heard rush of air over a fast-moving object, and then felt a moment of pain at the back of her skull. Darkness took her.

….

K'tal glared at the unconscious demon, shaking the ache from the hand he had knocked it out with. It had hit a nerve by even daring to slander his honour. By rights he should kill it, and he did not know why he hadn't already. But maybe he would gain some of his frayed sense of personal honour by taking the demon prisoner.

At least that was what he told himself, but he could not hide from the truth. The human had fought honourably, against overwhelming odds, and almost won. It had delivered one of his brothers from his suffering, at the cost of being helpless against attack, and he had to respect it for that. And, whatever he might think, he could not deny the fact that, despite the vaunted honour of his race, if not the others in the Covenant, he could not rationalize the fact that they _had_ in fact, slain hundreds of millions of helpless noncombatants in this war, even if they were the blasphemous humans.

Shaking aside his feelings of guilt, K'tal activated his communicator. "Shipmaster." He said into it.

….

Aboard the Covenant assault carrier _Indomitable Retribution_, Shipmaster Veld 'Raklamee looked at the video feed before him, relayed from the powerful camera on the carrier's belly, stunned. A single human demon had managed to obliterate an entire company of Covenant, including almost a full squad of Special Operations Sangheili and a bonded pair of Mgalekgolo, with only minor injuries to show for it. The only remaining warrior of the entire group, the last Spec Ops Sangheili, had only narrowly defeated the demon.

"_Shipmaster." _came a voice from the screen, and it switched to show the face of Special Operations Officer K'tal 'Varthikai, the same one who had defeated the demon.

"Report." Veld said shortly.

"_Your Excellency, I have captured the demon, and request permission to bring it aboard as a prisoner." _The Sangheili paused, looking, presumably, at the prone form of the demon. _"It may have useful information."_

"Very well." Veld conceded. "I will dispatch a dropship to your location."

_"By your word, Shipmaster."_

Perhaps the demon would talk, perhaps not. Either way, it would die eventually, and it would break before that. He smiled unpleasantly, and leaned back in his command chair. Yes, he thought, it would be broken, and it would realize the true glory of the Great Journey before dying.

TO BE CONTINUED

**A/N: Well, I hope you liked the story. If you review, you get a heaping plate of Internet cookies, and I shall update! Praise or constructive criticism only, please, because that's what keeps the world from plunging into the sun! Seriously, if you want to keep the world alive, review! And, as this is my first (well, second, since I'm revamping the story) attempt at a Halo fanfiction, that means constructive criticism is appreciated (no flames, or I WILL FIND YOU. *eyes narrow, and a giant scythe appears in Hawk's hand*) ****  
**


	2. Imprisonment

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who voted on my poll, for you have decided my course of action!**

**DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own Bungee, or anything related to Halo. If I did, I would have WAY better things to do than writing fanfiction. (Not to offend anyone)**

**Chapter 2: Imprisonment**

K'tal stalked through the _Indomitable Retribution_, dragging the semiconscious human behind him. She did not even try to struggle, no doubt weak from fighting, as she was led to the bridge, merely glared at him. He had already taken the liberty of removing all objects from her that could be used harmfully, so she could not try to kill him.

As K'tal entered the command centre, he shoved the female in front of the Shipmaster. She collapsed at his feet, in a position that would have resembled groveling, but for the burning hatred in her eyes. He quickly bowed his head at the Shipmaster in respect, and brought one hand across to his opposite shoulder in a salute to complete the gesture.

"Ah, the demon." the Shipmaster said smugly, as if it was _him _that had caught the human. "The Hierarchs will reward us greatly for this." His voice subsided, K'tal suppressed a small growl as he looked up at him as he surveyed the captive with a predatory expression, and struggled not to draw his sword and kill him right then and there. The Shipmaster was scum, only concerned with his own advancement and personal glory. Harnessing in on his fury, he walked to the human, catching her firmly, but not overly roughly, by the elbow.

The Shipmaster paused in his musings and looked quizzically at him. "What are you doing?" he queried.

"Merely taking the demon to the prison area, your Excellency." K'tal responded with false deference, seeking a way to get the human away, for reasons he could not rationalize. "It would be wise to begin questioning he-it immediately." he finished, quickly covering up his slip-up of almost calling the human a "her". That would not do.

The Shipmaster nodded, head on hand. "Very well then." he said, gesturing at the door with his free hand. "Wring this demon for everything it knows."

K'tal nodded, despising the Shipmaster, saluted once more, then, pulling the human to her feet, led her from the room. She stumbled through the halls, barely able to keep pace with him, and he slowed to accommodate her more, a rare gesture for him. He slowed even further as he reached the prison area, reluctant to leave the human there, in the hands of the savage Jiralhanae.

However, as much as he hated the Shipmaster, K'tal had no choice but to follow orders. He brought the female to the prison block entrance. A particularly hideous Jiralhanae stepped from the door.

"Ah," purred the beast, leering at the human. "Fresh meat." K'tal unconsciously tightened his grip slightly on the human's arm. The Jiralhanae saluted him sarcastically, then led them into the prison block "entryway". There, another Jiralhanae roughly grabbed the human held her as yet another proceeded to strip her violently of her armor. She did not resist as pieces of her armor were torn away forcibly, shredding parts of the black bodysuit beneath more often than not, but her mouth opened a small amount, crying out silently in pain. After the last of the armor was pulled away, the Jiralhanae reached to the human's throat, grasping something that glinted in the dim purple light, and wrenching it away, before the human was dragged away, most likely into an interrogation chamber.

"You, bring me that." I commanded the Jiralhanae, as it made to throw the object away. Grunting, it brought the object-or _objects_, as it were, over, tipping them into K'tal's hand. He regarded the small, rectangular metal tags, with their short, broken lengths of chain. He could not read the human writing etched into the tags, but, sensing that they held some special significance, slid them into a waist compartment.

K'tal winced at the sharp, piercing scream that issued from the doorway the human had been taken into.

...

Several hours later, Six was hurled into a cell. She groaned, tentatively feeling the sensitive spots and various wounds from her torture as she slowly sat up, and curled into a fetal position, cradling herself as she rocked back and forth in pain. The Brutes had tortured her viciously, under the supervision of a single Elite, who questioned her periodically. She spat, figuratively speaking, in his face. Frustrated by her refusal to talk, one of the Brutes had even tried to go so far as to attempt to assault her. Six had quickly dissuaded him of that, using all her remaining energy to kick him in the groin with all the force she had been able to muster. After recovering, the Brute had been intent on killing her, but had been stopped by the attending Elite. After that, the Elite had her thrown into the cell.

Six heard the sound of something entering the room. "What the hell do you want?" she snapped, not raising her head to look at the intruder. "Don't you think it's a little early to start torturing me again?"

"I have something of yours, human." the voice was familiar. Six's head snapped up instantly to look at the speaker. It was the same Elite that had caught her; his armor even still had the plasma scorching on it. He looked down at her; with disdain, pity, how the hell was she supposed to know what it was he thought of her? The alien reached into a small pouch on his waist and took out a small handful of metallic looking objects. He tossed them in her direction, and they clattered on the floor in front of her. She picked them up, and was amazed to see her dog tags, along with Kat's, Jorge's, and Emile's. She felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, and looked up at the Elite.

"I would hide those in a safe place if I were you, human." the Elite advised. "The Jiralhanae will destroy them if they find them." He regarded her blank expression at the name. "Your kind call them Brutes." he clarified.

Six wanted to thank the Elite, but he probably hadn't done it for her benefit; no doubt he had some secret agenda or something, and her voice seemed to have deserted her for the time being anyway.

"Thank you." she told him, having found her voice again, eyes shining.

...

K'tal looked down at the human. He felt a strange fluttering feeling in his chest at her words, followed by a flash of rage as he surveyed the burns, bruises, and bleeding cuts inflicted on her by the brutal torture. Her bodysuit was shredded even more than it had been, barely even covering her properly anymore, and he shuddered to think about what the barbaric Jiralhanae had done to her.

Slightly unnerved by the look in her eyes, a look devoid of hate, fear, or any emotion any regular human would feel in the presence of a Sangheili, K'tal nodded at her, then left. Heading for his room, he thought about what he had just done. Whatever the rest might think, the human did not deserve this. The Covenant were the reason for this, and K'tal was guiltily aware of the fact that he was Covenant. But, he thought, there might be a way to redeem himself.

At the door to his room, he swiftly entered and went to the hidden weapons locker in the wall. Popping it open, he removed everything inside, setting the items on his bunk. He clamped two sword handles on opposite thigh plates, followed by a pair of plasma rifles, and four plasma grenades went on his belt. A plasma repeater went on his back armor, and he snapped an energy knife projector into each gauntlet, and an Active Camouflage generator on his lower back. Lastly, he gently removed a well-used curveblade from the back of the locker and attached it to the back of his belt, then a needle rifle, and, holding it in one hand, pulled the metal blades the female had been carrying from his belt compartment with the other, strode back toward the prison area.

Quickly stepping into the cell once again, he tossed the blades to the human. "I will be back. Be ready." he growled. He left before she could formulate a response, but he saw her shocked expression from the corner of his eye as she looked at the blades, and then at his startling appearance, decked out in full combat gear as he was. He strode purposefully to the bridge. It was time to have a _talk_ with the Shipmaster.

**A/N: I hope you liked the chapter. K'tal's gonna lay the hurt down on someone, and it's probably gonna be the Shipmaster! And yes, it does seem like he likes Six! *wink wink nudge nudge* Also, to those of you who want to know what was meant by 'torture', use your own damn imagination. Or, better yet, don't. I am too lazy to write any detailed torture descriptions here, and besides, that is a really creepy and weird thing to do; it doesn't say good things about the mental state of the person writing. But, enough of that train of thought! Review, else I'll have to sic K'tal on you! *K'tal materializes menacingly, armed to the teeth***

**NOTE: I'm also sorry for the lack of any epic fight scenes in this chapter, but I can promise some next time! So, see y'all around!**


	3. Prison Break

**A/N: Alright, here's Chapter 3, packed full of action, violence and general badass-ness! Also, make sure you review! Also, for the sake of this fanfiction, I am going to use the human time system (seconds, minutes, hours), because I don't know what the Covenant one is. **

**DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. I own nothing recognizable, with the exception of K'tal.**

**CHAPTER 3: PRISON BREAK**

Six stared at the blades on the floor. Why the hell had that Elite given her the knife and kukri back? It made no sense.

She picked up the blades, looking at the dried blood still encrusted on their surfaces. And why had he told her he'd be back? The fact that he'd been wearing enough weaponry to outfit a small squad had made it sound somewhat ominous. She stared into the bloody metal, pondering.

...

K'tal paused outside the entrance to the bridge, double-checking all his weapons for problems. Satisfied that they were all in working condition, he checked through a compact Special Operations field kit he had taken from the armoury on his way to the bridge to make sure everything he needed was inside. Satisfied that everything was working properly, he clipped the field pack to the back of his waist armour, activated his Active Camouflage, and settled in to wait.

Soon enough, a Sangheili carrying a small holographic display pad and tapping industriously away at it walked out of the bridge, and K'tal took the opportunity to slip in quietly, without the odd spectacle of a door appearing to open for nobody. Grimly, he surveyed the soon-to-be-battlefield. The odds were very uneven. Including the Shipmaster, there were eight Sangheili arranged around the bridge, manning various stations. The Shipmaster himself was flanked by a bonded pair of Mgalekgolo, the

twelve-foot tall gestalt creatures towering over him. He had to pity them, slightly.

K'tal pulled out one sword handle, but did not activate it so as not to alert anyone. In his other hand, he took a plasma grenade, and, keeping his Active Camo up, walked silently closer to the closer Mgalekgolo, primed the grenade, and threw. The grenade stuck to the wormlike Lekgolo that made up the abdomen area of the creature, and exploded. The Mgalekgolo staggered back with most of the worm-creatures of its midsection incinerated, and collapsed. The surviving one gave a low growl of absolute rage, casting around and looking for the source of its partner's death. K'tal waited until its back was turned, and activated his sword. As the Mgalekgolo swiveled to face the source of the noise, K'tal swung his blade in an upward arc, carving its back armour wide open. He quickly rammed the sword into the breach, stabbing and hacking at the exposed flesh, and finally tearing through the chest armor and out through the front. The Mgalekgolo collapsed, K'tal barely getting out of the way, and for a few seconds it clawed at the enormous ragged hole in its chest before expiring in a pool of orange blood.

Knowing that his Active Camo had become unneeded due to the fact that it ceased to properly maintain invisibility when the user moved quickly, and that everyone on the bridge knew he was there, K'tal deactivated the module. In a single stride, he crossed to the nearest Sangheili, and with three quick movements, removed the Sangheili of his arms and plunged the blade into his chest. Flinging the corpse aside, he grabbed and activated his second energy sword, crossing it with the other as he swiveled to face the rest of the bridge crew.

"Get him!" screamed the Shipmaster. "Get him, or the Hierarchs will have your heads!" K'tal assumed a fighting half-crouch, one sword extended with a straight arm and the other cocked back over one shoulder. As one, the group surged forward, pulling sidearms from their resting places on their armour.

As the first came abreast with him, K'tal deactivated one sword, and, still holding the hilt, punched the Sangheili in the skull, and as the unfortunate warrior reeled back, dazed, he used the still active blade to decapitate him. K'tal was quick to reactivate the first sword, and flicked his arm out wide, burying the blade prongs in another opponent's throat. He pulled the sword free and spun in a pirouette of deadly energy, cleaving three more opponents limb from limb, and they fell away with various combinations of missing arms, legs and heads.

A flurry of plasma came from one of the remaining fighters, draining his shields, and he sprinted over to the attacker, who swung the plasma rifle at him in an attempt to stun him. K'tal cut straight through the offending weapon, cutting it cleanly in half and sparking the plasma core inside. He leapt back as the remains of the weapon exploded, spraying globs of plasma onto the weapon's holder and another standing nearby, who dropped to the deck in agony as the plasma ate through his shields and into his hide. The one holding the weapon was more lucky, as he was hit with enough of the superheated goo to be almost instantly killed. K'tal walked up to the wounded Sangheili, deactivating and storing one blade on his armor, and mercifully ended the pained warrior's life, sliding the other sword into his chest. Throwing aside the now-drained sword, bowing his head for a short moment in respect. Surrounded by the bodies of the fallen, K'tal uttered a quick prayer for the souls of the dead.

He then turned back, toward the Shipmaster, who had already drawn his own, ceremonial energy blade. K'tal could tell that he barely even knew how to wield the weapon properly, just from his stance. K'tal didn't bother using his remaining sword, instead activating his energy knives, getting inside the Shipmaster's swinging arc so he could not maneuver properly with his larger weapon. The fight was short, lasting only a few seconds before K'tal had his opponent disarmed and helpless, blade at his neck.

"What _are _you?" the Shipmaster croaked. K'tal realized how utterly terrifying he must look, literally dripping with his enemies' blood.

K'tal's response was simple. "Your death." he growled, cutting the Shipmaster's throat with a single movement of his wrist.

Deactivating his weapons, K'tal stepped over the still-convulsing body of his opponent and picked up the Shipmaster's dropped sword to replace his drained one. Walking to one of the bridge stations, he quickly accessed the shipboard functions. Quickly he shut off the ship-wide announcement speakers, to keep them from blaring out any automated alerts or evacuation orders. Right after that, he set the shipboard power core to overload, essentially initiating a self-destruct for the _Indomitable Retribution_. At the rate of overload, he guessed he had about thirty minutes left to get off the ship.

Wasting no time in exiting the bridge, K'tal, aware of the timeframe he had to get off the ship, stopped only to lock the door. Pulling a layered strip of metal from his field kit, he stuck the strip to the recessed door, and peeled away a layer. Immediately, the metal of the strip, due to a catalyst inside, began to glow white-hot. Quickly stepping away so the portal closed, he carefully watched as the seam between the door and the frame glowed orange and began to melt and fuse, melting the door to the bulkhead.

Spinning on his heel, K'tal stalked in the direction of the prison block. There was still one thing he needed to get before getting off this ship.

...

Six leaned against the back wall of the cell, waiting for something to happen. She had slid the kukri into the back of her shredded bodysuit, through a pair of roughly parallel slits in the material, situated roughly over the small of her back. The combat knife was supported by the very point between her middle and ring fingers, with most of its length hidden behind her forearm, in a way that made it easier to keep concealed while also able to quickly be dropped into a more combat-appropriate grip. The dog tags had been hung around her neck under the torn collar of her bodysuit.

Eventually, she heard the faint but unmistakeable sound of plasma weapons firing down the corridor outside her cell, accompanied moments later by the whistling of needler rounds. A Brute stumbled in, fur blackened and smoking from plasma discharge, nursing a burn on its abdomen with one arm. With its other arm, the alien grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the bulkhead, lifting her off the ground a few inches. Six inadvertently dropped the knife, but was thankful the Brute did not notice it clatter to the floor. The kukri's blunt side jammed uncomfortably into the small of her back, out of reach.

"Demon, you will come with me as a hostage. Your _friends _will not shoot one of their own, I think." the Brute snarled, sounding like an animal even through its translator. Six scrabbled at the Brute's hand around her neck, desperate for air. She had no idea what friends the Brute was talking about. Dimly, she heard the plasma fire cut off.

Suddenly, the twin prongs of an energy sword sprouted from the Brute's lower chest, and quickly ripped upward and to the side, out through the alien's shoulder, nearly cutting its arm off in the process, and killing it. As the arm holding her sagged and loosened its grip, and the dead Brute fell to the side, Six dropped to the cell floor, coughing and lightly holding her throat.

After the coughs subsided, she looked up at the face of her rescuer. It was the Spec Ops Elite who had given back her dog tags and knives. He was splattered with enormous amounts of semi-congealed Hunter blood all over his torso armor, even some on his head, and there were small amounts of Elite blood peppering various places on his chest and arms, though it did not appear to be his. In one hand, he held a lit energy sword, and loosely cupped in the other by the forward grip, pointed at the floor, was a needle rifle.

"Can you stand?" he asked, with a look that might've been concern in his eyes. Six nodded, still massaging her throat, and picked up her fallen knife.

"I need a gun." she rasped, motioning at the small armory on his back.

He nodded, flipped the rifle around to hold it by the barrel, and handed it to her stock first. "Can you shoot?"

She nodded once, and took the needle rifle in both hands, comforted by its solid weight. "You had better be ready to move fast." the Elite said. "This ship will be destroyed in about fifteen minutes." With that, he turned and walked from the cell, motioning for her to follow.

They ran quickly through the ship. By a stroke of luck, no enemies of any consequence were discovered. The few Grunts and Jackals they encountered were easily overpowered and killed within seconds of engaging them. As they got to the entrance to the dropship bays, the Elite signaled her to stop. He peered around the edge of the door, then withdrew and looked back at her.

"I need you to provide cover fire." he stated, as she caught a glimpse of several blue-armored Elite Minors. "There are six Sangheili on guard inside, and I will not be able to defeat them all by myself." He looked as if it pained him to admit that, and Six remembered how obsessed with honor Elites were, to the point that they probably didn't like admitting that they needed help from anyone. She nodded an affirmative as he drew a plasma rifle. She wondered for a moment what he had meant by 'Sangheili', but supposed that it was the Elites' name for themselves, given that she could only see Elites in the room and had no idea what else Sangheili could be.

"Stay under cover, and wait for my signal." he said before activating his Active Camouflage and disappearing. Six wondered exactly what he had meant by a 'signal', but she had a hunch that it involved him attacking the guards unexpectedly. She readied the needle rifle, bracing herself against the doorway.

...

K'tal slowly made his way behind the main group of guards. He hoped that the human would not do anything rash. She hopefully knew better than to attack before he had a chance to give the signal, and that she would have the sense to keep under cover. He still didn't know exactly why he cared whether she lived or died, just that he did. Ideally, he would have told her to stay in cover and not risk herself, but unlike the enemies in the bridge, those in the dropship bay were too spread out for him to take on alone. Special Operations fighters had weaker shields than other Sangheili, due to the power needed to run their Active Camouflage, so taking on spread-out groups of enemies alone was risky.

As he drew near the trio of guards, K'tal pulled a small plasma charge from his field kit, fixing it to the floor directly behind them. Holding the detonation trigger in his free hand, he backed up to a safe distance and activated the explosive. The blast killed one of the guards, who was closest, and depleted the shields of the other two. K'tal quickly leveled his plasma rifle at one of the unshielded guards and fired one-handed, sending a plasma burst up into the unfortunate Sangheili's back, burning through his armor and hide. The guard dropped like a stone, and K'tal used his free hand to draw one of his energy swords and activate it. As he charged for one of the remaining guards, he saw out of the corner of his eye the human open fire on the other unshielded guard, and the needle rifle rounds supercombined and blew his chest apart, armor and all, releasing a conical spray of indigo blood.

K'tal leapt at and over the guard, decapitating him with the energy sword as he did so. He landed behind the guard's collapsed body, deactivating his sword so he would not stab himself as he rolled to absorb the impact. As he stood back up, he saw that the last guard, all the others having been killed by either him or the human, had pointed his plasma repeater at him.

K'tal looked up at him, weighing the energy sword hilt in his hand. At the current distance, he was to far away to dispose of the guard with the sword, and the plasma rifle would take too long; the guard would be able to kill him easily with his own, more powerful weapon. Suddenly, however, there was the whistle of a needle rifle round past his head, and said round thudded into one of the guard's eyes. The guard roared in pain, staggering around, his aim thrown off.

The guard, having tightened his grip in the plasma repeater as a response to the pain, and thus pulled the trigger, sprayed plasma bolts randomly, one of which hit the human, searing into her side. She gave a cry of pain and collapsed, unmoving. K'tal, seeing it happen, found a dark, all-consuming wrath well up inside him. He reactivated the energy sword as he picked himself up, and charged at the injured guard. A couple of plasma bolts impacted his shields, but he ignored them, and with a flick of his wrist cut off the hand holding the plasma repeater. He continued with his charge, bodily slamming the guard into the side of a Spirit. Bones crunched under the impact, and the guard slumped, wheezing. K'tal showed no mercy, bringing his blade in an sideways arc and burying the points in the guard's skull.

Turning back to the human, he walked over to where she lay, putting away the plasma rifle along the way. Stripping off his helmet so he could hear better, he placed the side of his head against her chest, listening for a heartbeat. He found one, and allowed himself a sigh of relief, realizing she was just unconscious, buckling his helmet back on and clamping the needle rifle he had given her to his back, and then picked her up in both hands, and carried her to one of the Phantom gunboats. Keying the door open, he laid the human gently down on a bench situated against the back wall.

As he readied the Phantom for liftoff, the human stirred. "What's going on?" she groaned, holding her plasma-burned side.

"We are leaving." he told her simply, through the speaker that allowed communication between the troop area and cockpit. They took off and flew from the doomed ship, out into the midst of the fleet. K'tal looked around at the vessels nearby, searching for a suitable one. He knew that they needed a Slipspace-capable ship to escape, and he grinned slightly as his eyes alighted on one that would do perfectly. He steered toward it, gunning the engines of the Phantom to make sure that they were far enough away from the blast radius of the _Indomitable Retribution_. Looking at the rear-view display screen, he watched as the assault carrier trembled, rents spitting purple-blue energy opening up on the hull, then cracked in half as the core exploded in a silent but huge detonation which consumed the majority of the what was left of the ship and scattered fragments in all directions. K'tal watched as a large amount of the shrapnel impacted a destroyer, completely obliterating its shields, and tore out the other side causing a second explosion, and then switched his vision back to the forward display as the blasts faded, piloting in the direction of the small ship he had chosen to steal.

TO BE CONTINUED

**A/N: Well, there was Chapter 3. Review, or I'll get K'tal to eat you. I can you know, and he thinks humans taste like chicken! And as this is the last I will write until after Christmas, happy holidays!**

**Also, for the people who probably want to know what K'tal looks like, just think of a large Elite (think slightly smaller than the Halo Wars Arbiter) wearing Hunter blood-splattered, jet-black Spec Ops armour, carrying a small arsenal of Covenant weaponry. (Chapter 2 has the full list of weapons)**


	4. Grand Theft Starship

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bungee or Halo: Reach, but if a Bungee representative were to tell me I do, I certainly would not argue.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES: **

**Karl-591: Yes, pissing him off will lower your life expectancy by about 3000 percent.**

**Ralf Jones: Will do.**

**Gone Rampant: Don't worry too much, I don't know how I would write that anyway. Romance is not my forte. ;P**

**ArcherNoob: Thank you.**

**Nickelnick: Sorry about that. He has to have some form of recreation, and since killing people is out of the question...**

**ShadowedSerenity: Glad you like him.**

**LycanRed: I am not certain exactly what I want to do with them in the long term. I have a rough idea , but not much else.**

**Tinytim12: I will do my best to explain that.**

**PadawanMage: I'm working on it.**

**A/N: Sorry about the wait, school is a real [CENSORED] sometimes. Here is Chapter 4!**

**Chapter 4: Grand Theft Starship**

K'tal piloted the Phantom toward the ship he had decided that they had the best chance of taking successfully. It was a stealth corvette, lightly armed and defended, and capable of operated by an extremely small number of individuals in a pinch.

He established a connection with the corvette. "Greetings, brother." he said to the irritable-looking image of the corvette's communications officer, hoping that the small bloodstains on his helmet would not show.

_"What?" _the other Sangheili growled rudely. _"Who are you, and what is your reason for contact?"_

"I am Special Operations Officer K'tal 'Varthikai, formerly of the assault carrier _Indomitable Retribution._ We captured a demon from the surface of the human planet, but it broke free and ran berserk through the ship, killed the Shipmaster, and set the core to overload. The Shipmaster told me to warn the fleet before the demon killed him, so I took a dropship and escaped. Your ship was the closest to where I launched, so I naturally came to you first." K'tal responded.

_"You ran away from battle?" _the communications officer frowned even more.

"_And, regardless of whatever warnings you were told to give the fleet, they are void now. The _Indomitable Retribution _was destroyed not long ago, and the only signature detected leaving beforehand was your Phantom. The demon must have been killed in the explosion."_

"I was following orders." K'tal replied defensively. "I realize that the orders are now void, but I need to land on your ship. My Phantom was damaged by the explosion, and I am not certain how bad the damage is, so I need to see how bad it is myself." The communications officer nodded slightly, and disappeared from the image for a moment, presumably to consult with his Shipmaster.

_"Very well," _the officer said, reappearing. _"You have been given clearance to land and make repairs." _With that, the image winked out. K'tal sighed in relief and leaned back slightly, glad they had bought his lie. After he eased into the hangar, and once he heard the magnetic locks engage and seal the Phantom tightly in place, K'tal slid out of the pilot's chair and strode into the troop compartment, heading for the exit.

...

Six pulled herself into a sitting position as the Elite entered, grimacing at the throbbing from her plasma burns. "Where're you going?" she groaned through the pain, seeing him head for the Phantom's airlock. He turned to regard her, and she noticed, oddly, a long gouge running down the left side of his helmet, across the eye slit. It looked like her helmet had as she threw it away, she realized, right after it had been mangled by that Zealot's energy sword.

"I am going to take this ship so we can escape." he said.

Six started to rise. "I'm going with you." she said. "Give me a weapon." The Elite shook his head.

"I cannot allow you to do that. You are injured, and if you come along, you would only slow me down."

He pointed at a control panel next to her head. "Activate that panel once I am gone; it will lock the door. Take this." He tossed her a small communicator. Then he opened the door and left, not giving her a chance to argue. Six watched the door close automatically, then tapped the control panel. A small light over the closed door changed from blue to red; she assumed that meant the door was locked. She pulled out her knives, setting the kukri on the bench next to her and tossing and catching her combat knife idly, and settled in to wait.

...

K'tal activated his active camouflage and snuck around the pair of bored-looking Minors on guard in the hangar bay. He quickly grabbed one in a chokehold while the other was not looking, sliding the blade of one of his energy knives into the guard's skull, then silently lowered the body to the ground. The other guard began turning, and K'tal snapped out his energy knife and sliced the guard's throat wide open. He grabbed the collapsing body and laid it down silently as well, deactivating his active camouflage.

After dragging both bodies out of sight behind a convenient pile of crates, K'tal walked to the door and keyed it open. Just in time to see a Major walking past. The Major gawked, seeing him, and K'tal took the opportunity to activate both energy knives, rush forward, and stab him in the face before the alarm could be raised. Looking down all the hallways to check for other enemies, he pulled out his plasma repeater and set off in the direction of the bridge.

K'tal reached the entrance to the bridge with no trouble, and paused for a moment to ready himself, and then charged in.

The six Sangheili inside looked stunned at his appearance, but quickly sublimated their shock and drew weapons as he mowed one of their number down. They spread out in an attempt to flank him, but he simply ducked behind a control console and activated his active camouflage. Sneaking behind the bridge officers as they slowly began flanking the console they thought he was hiding behind, K'tal clamped the repeater onto his back.

Coming up behind the Shipmaster, who was furthest back, holding a needler and unlit sword hilt, he grabbed the Shipmaster around the neck, activated one of his energy knives and ran the Sangheili through. Deactivating the knife and wrenching the needler from the dying Shipmaster's hand, K'tal opened fire on the other officers, keeping the corpse between them and him as a shield. One of the Sangheili collapsed, head snapping back, as three razor-sharp crystal fragments pierced his shielding and punched into his face. Another got eight needles lodged in him, all over his chest and stomach, which then exploded and tore the unfortunate Sangheili apart, spraying the remaining two officers with gore. K'tal hurled his meat shield at one of them, bowling him over.

He followed through by drawing one energy sword, activating it, and ripping into the other officer, first stunning him with a hook to the right side of his head, then killing him by stabbing into the officer's stomach and dragging the sword upwards, gutting the other Sangheili like a fish. Deactivating his sword and turning to the last one, who was struggling to free himself from the corpse he was pinned under, K'tal activated his right energy knife, and crouched down on his haunches to look him in the eye.

"Traitor!" the Sangheili spat. "A thousand hells await you!"

"Believe me, brother," K'tal said heavily. "If there were only another way." He slid the energy blade into the officer's heart. Standing up, he dragged the various bodies from the room and then, once he returned, went to the console that controlled shipwide functions. He overrode the emergency bulkheads so they would stay open, and then opened every airlock, force field, and door on the stealth corvette except for the bridge access door, venting the ship and blowing every single crew member out into the cold, unforgiving vacuum. Resealing the airlocks remotely and flicking through the displays from the surveillance camera scattered through the ship, K'tal checked for survivors. Having found none, he flicked to the image of the hangar bay, and, seeing the Phantom he had left the human in intact and still in place, let out a breath he had not been aware he had been holding.

Turning away from the console, he walked toward the door out of the bridge to go get the human.

...

Six was drumming her fingers impatiently on the bench next to her when the communicator crackled to life. _"The ship is clear; unlock the door and come out." _the Elite ordered. Picking up her knives, she slapped the control panel and the door opened. Walking out, she noted the dried bloodstains on the floor in the middle of the bay. They looked stretched, as if they had been sucked at by a vacuum cleaner before fully drying. That coupled with a suspicious lack of bodies and the thinness of the air made her guess that the ship interior had been depressurized and everything had been sucked out into space.

"Did you vent the ship?" she queried the Elite, who was standing near the door, watching her.

He shrugged. "It was the quickest and easiest way to dispose of the crew without compromising the ship." he replied simply, turning and beckoning for her to follow. "Come."

Following him to the bridge, she watched the Elite walk up to a console and begin typing rapidly into it. "If you want to be useful, go plot a Slipspace course. I've managed to translate it into your language." he said, not looking up from the display but pointing for a moment at another console.

Going to the console he had indicated, Six punched up the display and tapped in a set of random Slipspace coordinates in accordance with the Cole Protocol. "How do you know enough about my language to translate it?" she asked as she worked.

"I am Special Operations; we are typically sent on infiltration and intelligence-gathering missions behind enemy lines, so having knowledge of your language is useful." he said, still focused on his console. He prodded the display one last time, and the ship shuddered slightly as it entered Slipspace.

The Elite looked at her. "Human, I-" he started.

Six glared at the Elite and cut him off. "My name is not _human, _or do you want me to call you Elite all the time? You can call me Six, everyone else did." Her tone was slightly bitter.

"Very well...Six." he amended, starting again. "I am going to the armoury to recharge my weapons. I will be back soon. If we drop out of Slipspace before I get back, the stealth systems activate automatically activate and will keep the ship hidden from possible enemies until we can make another jump." Having said that, he walked to the door.

Six strode over to him. "Then I might as well go with you." she said. "I can't keep taking your weapons all the time." The Elite nodded once and allowed her to follow.

...

K'tal's first impression upon entering the armoury was that it was extremely well-stocked for a stealth ship. Racks of plasma rifles, needle rifles and focus rifles lined the walls. In sealed protective lockers along the back wall of the room were the heavier weapons: fuel rod guns, concussion rifles and plasma launchers, and holders for needlers and plasma pistols lay on the floor, fastened to the walls. Most importantly, to him at least, was a case on the wall next to the door, holding several energy sword hilts and spare power packs for them.

Going to the case, K'tal unsealed it and removed one sword hilt and several power packs. He walked to a table in the centre of the room and deposited the power packs and sword hilt on it, as well as the nearly-drained pair of hilts he had already been carrying. Working quickly, he stripped the hilts of their used power packs and slotted in fresh ones, then activated both swords to check if they were working properly, slightly startling Six, who spun around to look at him, hand hovering above one of her short-bladed metal knives. Seeing him deactivate both of the swords, she turned back to perusing the gun racks, before taking a plasma repeater and needler pistol.

Walking past the various racks, K'tal clamped his plasma weapons into a charging station and hooked up the feeds to the charging ports, and hearing the hum as the station powered up and began recharging the partly-drained plasma cores in the guns, He walked over to a rack and pulled one of the needle rifles free, exchanging it for the used one on his back.

"I have to ask," Six said from the opposite side of the room. "Why did you rescue me?"

K'tal turned to look at her squarely. "I... I honestly do not know." he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I suppose I just felt that you did not deserve the fate put before you on that ship." he tried to explain himself. "And, seeing your defiance in the face of pain and death helped solidify my belief that you humans are not the weak, worthless beings the Hierarchs say you are."

Six folded her arms. "Really?" she did not sound very convinced. "How long have you been thinking that?"

"Since the planet your kind called Miridem." K'tal answered. "I saw your soldiers, including more of you," he gestured at Six, "Fight and die to protect your noncombatants as they escaped. The ability to put the safety of others before that of oneself; that is something I have a great deal of respect for. That is when I started believing the Hierarchs were wrong."

He tapped the warped, scarred part of his helmet. "This was another factor; I got it for questioning my commanding officer during that campaign; I was ordered to destroy a refugee ship as it tried to flee the planet, loaded with civilians. When I demanded to know why it was necessary to destroy an unarmed ship that was not even a threat, he attacked me before being restrained by his guards." he sighed. "I lost most of what little faith I had in the Covenant that day. What was once a glorious campaign, a holy crusade, had dissolved into glorifying pointless violence." he finished.

Six seemed struck speechless. "Have you got everything you need?" K'tal asked. She nodded once, then followed him as he turned and strode out the door in the direction of the bridge.

Next to the door he stopped, opening a locker, and taking a pair of items from inside. They were magnetized belts designed for carrying weapons, generally used by Kig'Yar snipers when they needed to carry their guns while leaving their hands free for other uses. He tossed them to Six. Understanding, she cinched one around her waist and the other crosswise across her torso, and they continued walking.

...

The next few hours passed monotonously. Once they dropped out of Slipspace into their random destination, Six keyed up the jump that would take them to Earth, with K'tal respectfully looking the other way at her request so he could not see the coordinates. Some minutes after the corvette eased back into the strange dimensions that allowed FTL travel, Six spoke up from where she sat, back to the rear wall of the bridge.

"I suppose I can't rightfully call you Elite," she called out at the Elite, who was standing by the viewscreen, staring out into the glowing void, "Not when I called you out for calling me Human. So, what should I call you? What's your name?"

"K'tal." he answered curtly.

She nodded, even though he probably couldn't see her, and went back to toying with her combat knife, before sliding it back into its sheath, which she had affixed to the belt across her chest. Soon, she felt sleep overtaking her. _Good, _she thought. It had been some time since she had been able to have a real night's sleep, rather than the cat-naps she had to have instead during the invasion of Reach. Six relaxed, closed her eyes, and let the world of dreams take her.

...

Six felt herself being shaken awake, and opened one eye a crack to see the Elite- no, _K'tal, _she remembered, looking down at her. "Come, we have reached your destination." he stated, pulling her to her feet one-handed. "I need you to initiate contact; they will not trust us if I am the one they see first." he gestured at the comm station a few feet away.

Nodding an affirmative, she walked to the station and activated it, switching to the UNSC FLEETCOM 7 frequency, and a voice crackled out of the speaker. _"This is UNSC Destroyer 'Normandy', state your identity and purpose." _came the voice of the comm officer on the other end of the line.

"This is Lieutenant Spartan Bravo-Three-One-Two under SPECWAR/Group Three of SPECWARCOM, _Normandy._" she replied swiftly and professionally. "Recently freed from Covenant captivity."

_"A Spartan?" _the officer sounded incredulous. _"It says here you were listed as MIA. How did you get away from the Covenant?" _

Six chuckled slightly. "Long story. Basically, I was captured, escaped in one of their stealth ships, and now here I am. Would you mind sending a Pelican to pick me up? I'll have the stealth systems powered down so you can find me."

_"Alright, we'll dispatch a dropship, Lieutenant. We'll send 'em as soon as we can find you." _

"One last thing," Six added. "Tell the Marine detachment you'll undoubtedly send along that there is a Covenant defector on board with me, so they won't shoot at him the moment they see him. They'll just end up getting hurt." she finished, remembering what K'tal had done to his former allies with just energy swords.

_"How do you know he actually defected?" _came the query. _"He could be a spy." _

"He saved my life, that's how I know." Six answered. "I wouldn't have escaped without him."

_"Very well." _the comm officer conceded, as K'tal powered down the stealth systems in the background. _"We'll send the Pelican. Welcome home, Lieutenant."_

**A/N: Once again, I am SO sorry for not updating sooner! I've had exams to do and a mild case of writers block going on, so please don't eat my face! Also I've been distracted, 'cause I just got a new game and have been busy playing it. And Chapter 5 will probably be a while, as I have other things to do as well as this and I need to figure out where the hell I want to go with this story, so don't hold your breath.**

**Also, I apologize if you guys think Six is OOC, but it's hard to judge someone's character when said character has almost as few lines as Master Chief. So deal with it. **


	5. Return

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I do not own Bungee; if I did, Noble Team would've survived Reach. Except maybe Emile. But that's just my opinion. Also, in this story, as no equivalent rank is given for the Spec Ops Officer, I'm going to assume that the Spec Ops Officer is roughly the equivalent of a Sangheili Major, which is more or less the equivalent of a Lieutenant in the UNSC Navy. That's right, K'tal is the same rank as Six.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES: **

**Lina Inverrse: Thank you.**

**ParanoidSchizo91: I did not say there would be no romance, just that it is difficult for me to write. There may be romance yet, I haven't decided.**

**Ralf Jones: Indeed they will my friend, indeed they will.**

**EverlastingLife: Thank you.**

**Karl-591: You'll see. *Evil grin***

"**Secretly Awesome": Thanks for the review and offer. Unfortunately I do not own Halo: Reach. :'(**

**Kairi-loves-Sushi: Thank you.**

**KrimsonGuard Bites BaronP: Here are the details you asked for. K'tal wears the Halo: Reach Spec Ops armour variant, jet-black primary colour, dark gray secondary, and is a Spec Ops Officer (that is his rank, look it up on Halopedia if you don't believe me), and his armor has no specific scars except for the cut and warping on the side of his helmet from the energy sword and maybe some slight scoring from plasma damage, and has patches of dried Elite (indigo blood) and Hunter blood (orange blood) splattered on the chest and arms. However, I would maybe not draw much besides his head for now if I were you, as I have a few changes in mind for K'tal that will be added in a few chapters. Or do whatever you like.**

**Halloween265: Thank you.**

**iEspeon: I'll do my best.**

**Manga154: Thank you. **

"**4RuNNeRSPAR217": Don't worry, this story still has some ways to go.**

**CHAPTER 5: RETURN**

Six and K'tal walked side by side to the waiting Pelican, Six moving slowly and grimacing slightly as the pain from her injuries began to catch up to her. As they drew near to the idling dropship, the squad of UNSC marines array near the Pelican visibly tensed at the sight of K'tal, gripping their guns tighter and looking nervously up at his imposing frame.

Despite the discomfort and pain from her wounds, Six laughed slightly to herself as K'tal walked up to one of the more green looking Marines, who was blocking the troop bay entrance, and spoke. "Excuse me." he said politely, deftly maneuvering around the man. The marine looked about ready to pass out from fear, and Six was finding it hard not to laugh at the priceless expression on the man's face.

Seemingly oblivious to his terrorization, knowingly or not, of the soldier, K'tal deftly slid past him and into the troop bay, where he eschewed the seats, and instead leaned against the forward bulkhead next to the hatch that led to the cockpit.

Turning to the most sergeant, Six addressed him. "Lieutenant Spartan B-312, reporting."

The man snapped to attention at the mention of her rank, and he saluted crisply, as did the entire rest of the squad, though they looked a bit disconcerted by her battered appearance. "Staff Sergeant Daniels, ma'am. We've been ordered to escort you to Cairo Station for your debriefing. Admiral Hood has requested to speak with you, as well."

"At ease, men." Six said, waving them down. "Thank you, Sergeant." she nodded at the sergeant and walked into the troop bay. She heard a low whistle come from one of the marines, followed by a loud _thwack_. Six turned around, to see one of the marines with his helmet off and rubbing the back of his head, while one of his comrades, with a still-partially-extended arm that suggested he had smacked the man upside the head, was glaring daggers at him. Smirking very slightly, Six turned back around

"Alright men!" the sergeant shouted to his squad. "We're moving out! Get your lazy asses in that Pelican!" he bawled, and the marines filed into the dropship. The sergeant entered last and sat beside Six, leaning his shotgun against the bulkhead next to himself.

As the hatch closed up and the Pelican rumbled to life and took off, the sergeant leaned slightly in her direction. "Ma'am, I don't mean to pry, but are you sure about him?" he gave a significant glance in the direction of K'tal, whose helmeted head swung to scrutinize the man, as if he could feel the sergeant's eyes on him. "He could turn on us at any time."

Six shook her head. "No," came her reply. "I don't think he has anywhere to turn to; if their military is anything like ours, the Covenant probably has a rather harsh view on deserters."

The sergeant leaned back in his seat. "Whatever you say, ma'am, but I still don't trust him."

...

The Pelican ride to Cairo Station was spent in silence, with the sergeant suspiciously watching K'tal, who met his gaze unflinchingly the entire way there, and Six doing her very best to ignore the two of them by staring intently at the bulkhead across from her position. The marines just looked extremely uncomfortable and stared at their boots.

When they reached the station, a uniformed ONI official was waiting right outside the Pelican for her and K'tal. "Welcome back Lieutenant," he addressed her. "If you and your... friend... will follow me, we can go to the debriefing. Though we should probably get you a uniform first." Then he spun on his heel and walked off. Sighing to herself, Six followed him, gesturing to K'tal to come along as well.

...

Two hours later, Six walked out of the debriefing room, letting out an exasperated breath and running one hand through her short-cropped hair as she tugged at the collar of the uniform she had been procured with the other. The officers in the debriefing had been insufferable; constantly telling her to recount the details of her capture and imprisonment on the Covenant ship, and once they had finished, they started on K'tal, checking whether he was lying about deserting the Covenant. The Elite had obviously been highly irritated, and less than civil to several of the officers in the debriefing. However, Six had managed to convince the board that K'tal would not betray them anytime soon, though it had taken the rather creative modification and application of a polygraph so it would work with K'tal's alien physiology before the board had believed her.

Six walked to the med bay. K'tal was already there, looking distinctly unhappy as, stripped to the waist of his armor, he had to stand and be poked and prodded by a group of doctors and scientists. She noted that the damage on his helmet from the energy sword appeared to continue onto his face, resulting in a ridge of pink scar tissue running along his head

Seeing her enter, K'tal acknowledged Six with a nod, before, having apparently had enough of the situation, pulling himself away from the probing eggheads with a low growl, repeatedly pushing away one who was doggedly pursuing him with a hypodermic needle, trying to get a blood sample. They would not give up though, and K'tal was soon surrounded again.

"Ah, Lieutenant! I guessed you would come down here for an evaluation eventually. Follow me, and I can get you an examination." said a woman with a swarthy complexion, wearing a doctor's coat. The doctor lead her over to a separate room, and, after making her change out of the uniform she had been wearing, bid her to lie down on an examining table, and after a few minutes of probing, running a scanner over her body to check for breaks, and a battery of various other tests, gave her the diagnosis.

"Well," the doctor said, looking over the results, "You appear to have some internal bleeding; nothing major, but you'll have some rather lovely bruises for a while, and you also have a fair number of lacerations, puncture wounds, abrasions, and burns of varying degrees of severity. And you have significant blunt trauma in your left arm, centered around a hairline fracture in your left ulna." she finished, looking up from the results and setting them down. "All in all, I'm actually surprised you managed to remain able to function for so long; a non-Spartan probably would've gone into shock from the trauma."

"I'm fine," Six tried to argue weakly. The doctor stopped her.

"No, Lieutenant," the doctor said firmly. "You've probably been through seven kinds of hell to get back here, and you need to get these injuries looked at and treated before you make them worse."

Realizing she was not going to get out of it, Six agreed, and laid there on the table, ignoring the slight pinch as the other woman hooked her up to an IV drip. Six looked up at the lights and watched the cieling blur together and fade as the sedative in the IV kicked in.

...

K'tal leaned against the wall next to the door that led to Six's room, holding his helmet loosely in one hand. He had requested to see her, but had been ushered away by a small human female in a white coat, and been told that she was resting. Bored, he stared meditatively at the floor, running one finger along the thin, cord-like scar on the side of his face, following the curve of the line as it ran down from the back of his skull, just behind his eye, and terminated in a gap on the front of his upper jaw where it had destroyed part of his maxilla, preventing teeth from regrowing there. He sighed slightly, feeling exhausted.

Quick footsteps sounded to his right, and K'tal's head snapped to see what it was. There was an elderly-looking human male in a uniform that suggested high rank standing off to his side, looking at him. Pushing himself off the wall, K'tal turned to face the human and inclined his head respectfully.

"My apologies if I am making you uncomfortable." K'tal said politely, "I am merely waiting to see someone."

The human seemed to look perplexed, though K'tal found it hard to tell, with the deep-set wrinkles all over the human's face making him hard to read. "Who?" the human asked.

"The Spartan." K'tal replied.

The human's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "As it happens," the human said, "I am here to see her as well." He started toward the door.

K'tal stopped him. "The... doctor," K'tal stated with distaste, "Said that she needed to rest."

"Well, that's something I can circumvent, as I outrank everyone else on the station." With that, the human opened the door. "You can come along, I suppose." he added, before heading into the room. K'tal smiled toothily and followed, turning sideways and ducking in order to fit through the small doorway.

Six was in the room, laying in a bed while hooked up to various monitors. K'tal had to suppress a small, instinctual growl at the sight, and went and hunched into a small visitor's chair that was not designed for his body shape. The human male immediately went to speak to her, and was addressed by her as 'Admiral Hood.' K'tal's head snapped up at that, as that was the closest human equivalent to the rank of Fleet Master, and thus was very prestigious. However, seeing the other human near Six seemed to trigger a rush of feelings of protectiveness for Six. He did his best to ignore them.

After some generic-sounding praise from the human admiral, he turned on his heel and began walking to the door. He stopped as he was passing K'tal, and said to him, "Before I leave, you have unofficially been inducted into the UNSC navy. Your commanding officer is Spartan B-312."

K'tal stood up from the chair, towering over the admiral, who took a step back, and brought his hand to his chest, resting it over one of his hearts. "I am honored." he thanked the admiral, "I will not let you down."

The admiral nodded and left the room. K'tal walked over to Six's bed.

Six looked up at him, craning her neck slightly. "Hi," she greeted, smiling slightly.

K'tal said nothing, just nodded.

"Any particular reason you came to see me?" she queried.

K'tal shook his head. "No. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Spotting her smirking at that, he added, defensively, "I have reasons for wanting to see that you are alright." He crossed his arms, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

Her smile stayed, but she changed the subject, perhaps sensing his discomfort. "It seems that I am now your commander." she stated, her tone sounding much more business-like.

"Indeed."

"Also," she sounded thoughtful, "I have some shore leave piled up; I'd like you to see Earth. It could be interesting."

K'tal frowned. "I think your people would not take kindly to me wandering your cities."

Six waved a hand dismissively. "They can think whatever they want; I could not give less of a damn. You're on our side, and that's good enough for me." She smiled slightly again. "Now, go get some rest." she commanded. "You look like you need it."

K'tal's mandibles twitched slightly at that. _How did she know I was tired?, _he thought to himself. _Is she just trying to get rid of me? _

Respecting her wishes, K'tal nodded and withdrew from the room, leaving the white-coated female, along with several others in odd-looking blue clothes, who had been hovering in the corner, to swoop down on Six again. His thoughts, however, were far from the idea of sleep.

...

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

** SEPTEMBER 15, 2552, 0900 HOURS**

Six walked through the crew area of Cairo Station, wearing a new set of Mjolnir armor. It was almost identical to her original armor that she wore, the only differences being that her torso armor was now the Tactical/Patrol variant, and that she had the kukri gotten from Emile strapped into a sheath on her left shoulder plate. On her right shoulder was stenciled the Noble team emblem and around her neck were Jorge's, Kat's, and Emile's dog tags, alongside her own.

She stopped outside one door, and knocked, gauntlet clanking loudly against the metal. "Come in." the occupant growled. Entering, Six saw K'tal hunched over a piece of shaped metal, cutting a design into it with one of his energy knives. At a closer glance, the metal appeared to be K'tal's chestplate.

"What... are you doing?" she asked. K'tal flicked off his knife and held the plate up for her to see. The design, roughly circular in shape, but open on either side, with curved, intersecting lines running through it, was on the upper left side of the chest plate, roughly where the heart would be located for a human.

"It is a Covenant glyph called the Mark of Shame," he explained, "Usually burned into the flesh of heretics and traitors, and it means that the individual is dead to all those who follow the Covenant. The receiver of the Mark is almost always executed afterward."

"Why would you burn something like that into your armor?" Six questioned, confused.

K'tal shrugged. "Why not? I may as well show where my loyalties lie." he finished, removing one shoulder plate and tapping the painted UNSC eagle and globe on it with a finger, then reattaching it. As he clamped his chestplate back in place, he added, "Though I am certain you did not come here to talk about what I am doing to my armor. Is there something you need?" He leaned back in his seat on his makeshift bed.

"Yes, in fact," Six answered, "There is a medal ceremony being held for me that I need to attend, and I would appreciate it if you would come along."

K'tal stood up. "Certainly." The two of them walked from the room.

As they walked into the elevator, Six asked, "How have you been? I never asked during the times you visited me."

"Not bad," he answered, "You superiors were kind enough to send over some of the food stores from the corvette we stole before they took it apart, so I won't have to worry about starving anytime soon, and in a worst-case scenario, I can always eat your food; it would not be the first time.

"As for the people, it's different. Your marines have gotten used to seeing me around, but most of them still hate or fear me, so I mostly stay in my quarters and meditate."

Six spent a moment absorbing that, then answered, "I'm sorry to hear that."

K'tal shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry for. Your people have been waging a war against mine for more than two decades. They have the right to be distrustful."

The elevator doors opened then, and Six and K'tal stepped out onto the bridge. They walked to the group of UNSC officers and marines standing stiffly at attention that were there for the ceremony, K'tal walking behind her and to the right, similarly to where a bodyguard would be for a politician.

Immediately after they stopped, the ceremony started. Lord Hood came forward and took a small medal from a case containing one other medal. Attaching it to a small magnetic strip on the chest of Six' armor, he intoned, "Lieutenant, the Colonial Cross is awarded for acts of singular daring and devotion. For a soldier of the United Earth Space Corps, there can be no higher honor." he looked up at her, "Your actions on Reach were in keeping with the highest of military traditions. Your bravery and dedication in the face of impossible odds reflect great credit on yourself and the UNSC."

He took the second medal from the case. "The Prisoner of War Medallion is awarded to those who have been captured by in combat by an enemy of the UNSC. Your ability to not divulge information to the Covenant while under the threat of torture and death reflects great credit on your strength of will." he attached the medal to her chestplate, next to the Colonial Cross. "You have earned these commendations; continue to make the UNSC proud. Dismissed."

Six saluted and walked away. K'tal followed her. "What now?", he asked.

Six stopped walking and turned to a window that showed Earth. "I think it's time for you to see what we're fighting for."

**A/N: God, I hated writing this chapter. This will be my last post for a while. I am not abandoning it, but I need a break from writing. So please do not nag. Review!**


	6. Out On The Town

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Halo or Bungee, never will, and cannot even hope to come close to the near-godly story-writing abilities of the amazing team of people that make up Bungee. **

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Karl-591: K'tal really did not appreciate that derogatory comment about his facial structure. But he's willing to let it slide... for now.**

**Yereton: Yeah, I didn't really think about that at the time, plus the fact that A, I do not know much about military awards and which ones are given for what, B, I don't even know if there is an award for rescuing prisoners of war, and C, if there is no award for that, there isn't really anything K'tal has done for the UNSC that merits any award and/or recognition in the ceremony as far as I know. But, if you know of an appropriate medal or award for K'tal, let me know and I will see if I can squeeze it in.**

**Reubenrun: Why thank you. I will get around to that.**

**Manga154: Indeed.**

**A/N: IT'S OVER NIIIIINNNE THOOOOUUUSSAAAANND! That's how many hits this story has gotten, and it's nowhere near done! I love you guys, so please keep reading and reviewing and all that jazz, and please forgive me for how ridiculously tardy I am with updating.**

**CHAPTER 6: OUT ON THE TOWN**

**CAIRO STATION, SEPTEMBER 15, 2552, 1505 HOURS**

**SIX'S P.O.V.**

Six and K'tal walked back through the barracks area to Hangar A-01, where they would take a flight down to Earth. Stopping by the door to K'tal's quarters, Six said, "Before we go down, is there anything a little _less _threatening you could wear?"

"No, why?" K'tal asked, slightly confused.

"Because people are probably more likely to over-react if the alien they see is wearing scarred, black armour, than if said alien is not wearing it, and not carrying a conspicuous amount of weapons." she replied, glancing down at the sword handle on his thigh.

K'tal nodded slightly, then walked into his room, pulled his gauntlets and helmet off and laid the armor pieces on his bed along with one of his sword grips. Noting Six's look at him, he stated, "I don't have anything to wear besides this armour." He paused, then added dryly, "And I doubt it would really make any sort of difference."

Six nodded. _Armor or not, K'tal is going to attract a lot of attention, _she thought. _Thank God I changed out of my armor after the ceremony; a fully-armoured Spartan and an Elite walking around together would definitely not be taken well by a lot of people._

They continued to the shuttle bay, where Six walked in the direction of a Pelican with a man in a pilot's uniform leaning against the frame of the open hatch. He saluted as they came close.

"Flight Officer MacTavish reporting, Ma'am." he said in a strong Scottish accent. "Ah assume ye wan' tae git down tae the planet?"

"Yes, we do, if you please, Flight officer." Six answered. Nodding distractedly, the pilot craned his neck slightly to look up at K'tal.

"Well, ain't ye a great, strappin' fella." the man commented.

"Flight Officer!" Six said sharply, getting his attention back.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he apologized, snapping off another salute. "Ah did no' main tae be rude, Ma'am." He walked into the troop compartment, then turned back to them. "All aboard." he finished cheerily, gesturing for them to get in.

As the Pelican's engine roared to life, K'tal turned in his seat to look at Six, and asked, "Are you certain that this is a good idea?"

"People will eventually have to get used to seeing you around." Six answered.

K'tal nodded once, and turned back to continue staring at the opposite bulkhead.

...

**K'TAL'S P.O.V.**

When the Pelican touched down, Six stood up and gestured for K'tal to follow. _"Have a nice day, an' thank ye for flyin' with Air Pelican. Now shoo, so Ah can get me baird back tae Cairo Station." _the pilot's strangely-accented voice crackled over the speakers as the deployment hatch opened up. K'tal's mandibles curved into a small smile at the human's odd personality.

As they walked out of the military airfield, K'tal, constantly looking around reflexively, partially from his military training and partially out of interest at the layout of the city, and painfully conscious of the looks of thinly-disguised fear from the nearby civilians, who were giving him as wide a berth as possible, asked, "Where are we going?"

"A museum." Six answered. "I thought it would be good for you to learn about some of human culture, and a museum is the quickest and easiest way to do so." She, also, seemed uncomfortably aware of the atmosphere of barely-restrained panic. Doing his best to ignore the tense atmosphere, K'tal nodded in agreement. He had read up some on human culture, mannerisms, and ways of speaking in order to better understand them on the rare occasions he talked to anyone other than Six, but he knew next to nothing about their history.

Thankfully, they reached a large building that K'tal realized was probably the museum. The building was large and boxy, covering a good two hundred feet on either side of the entrance, with a wide set of shallow steps leading up to the entrance and and in alcoves were stone statues of humans in various forms of clothing and in various poses: one that wore a headdress that seemed to be made of feathers. Another sat astride a four-legged animal of some sort and brandished what seemed to be some sort of sword. Another wore armor of strange design, with unnaturally sharp angles at the joints and a helmet with a faceplate that looked like an forward-pointing cone that had been perforated with holes. Yet another wore armor of a completely different design, with large shoulder-and-upper-arm guards, a large helmet with extensions that looked vaguely like the crescents that were all that could be seen of Qikost and Suban during some points in Sanghelios' lunar cycle, and a face mask with a rather unnatural-looking and snarling visage carved into it that reminded K'tal of a Jiralhanae he had crossed paths with at one point. Above the building entrance, a line of human script proudly proclaimed _'CAIRO MUSEUM OF HUMAN HISTORY', _along with a couple other lines of writing that he assumed said the same thing in other languages.

Walking inside, K'tal waited as Six walked over to some sort of booth against the wall of the lobby and began talking to a human male standing inside. Their voices subtly began to rise in volume, and K'tal saw the human male jab a hand rather violently in the direction of him, and realized that they were probably arguing over whether or not to allow him to be in the building. However, Six soon stopped the blustering human in mid speech simply by coldly staring him down, something that was probably helped by the uniform she was wearing and by the fact that she had an obvious and intimidating height advantage on the other human. K'tal smirked.

After a few more minutes of talking, Six passed a small chip to the other human, who turned away and slotted it into a machine of some sort, and then removed it and passed it back to her, along with two pieces of material with human writing on them that the machine had spat out.

"Alright," Six said, walking back over to K'tal and running a hand through her short hair in what he assumed was exasperation. "I have our tickets. Let's start the tour, shall we?" She looked tense as she ushered him along and into the museum proper.

"Are you alright?" K'tal queried, regretting the question moments after asking it.

"I'm fine." she said sharply, before seeming to relax a little, adding, "Sorry, it's just the people." she grimaced, "I don't... interact easily with civilians. I don't have anything in common with them. And they're a constant reminder of what my life could have been like."

K'tal was a bit confused. "Meaning...?" he asked, trying to get her to open up a little.

"You know how I said on Reach that I don't have a life except for war?" Six asked. When he nodded, she said, "When the ONI higher-ups saw how successful the Spartans were against the Covenant, they wanted to make more of them. So they made the Spartan Threes, like me." she paused for a moment, then finished with, "I was six years old when they took me for the program." K'tal was dumbstruck for a moment at the last part.

"You make it sound like you didn't have a choice in the matter." K'tal commented. "What about your family? Wouldn't they have wanted you to stay with them?"

Six shook her head. "My family was killed when the Covenant attacked Jericho VII. That's part of the reason I agreed to join up; I wanted revenge. And you're right; I didn't really have a choice. They said it was my decision, but I could tell they most likely wouldn't have taken no for an answer."

K'tal showed no outward emotion but a clenching and unclenching of his hands. However, inside he was seething with rage. _How DARE they force that choice on a child! _he thought, fighting to control his anger. _Of all the dishonourable, cowardly-_

Six laying a hand on his arm interrupted his train of thought. "K'tal," she said, quietly and evenly, "Calm down, please."

"Sorry," he apologized, doing his best to reign in his anger. They walked into the first hall of exhibits.

...

**CAIRO, SEPTEMBER 15, 2552, 1845 HOURS**

**SIX'S P.O.V.**

The museum had taken a long time to go through, and it was now early evening. Six and K'tal were walking through the streets and taking in the sights. Or rather, K'tal took in the sights. Six just quietly thought, remembering the day's events.

It had been funny for Six to watch K'tal going through the museum, looking at all the exhibits. His fascination with her race's history seemed almost childlike in its enthusiasm. It was rather endearing, and yet completely at odds with what she had seen of his personality and how he acted, especially in combat.

One area that had drawn special interest from K'tal had been the wing dedicated to Japanese history and culture, which by an interesting coincidence was strikingly similar to the culture the Elites had on their home planet. The ancient Japanese peoples' Bushido honour code, in particular, had so many similarities with the Elites' own they were almost identical. They had stayed in that wing of the museum for some time while K'tal learned everything he could about the little country, though he had asked if she was alright with him doing so. In truth, Six had no problems with that at all; Japan had always interested her, something that was a given, due to her partial Japanese ancestry.

Her train of thought was abruptly halted by a comment from K'tal. "You truly have a beautiful world," he said, "From what I have seen of it." He looked down at her. "And your history is certainly... diverse. None of the races in the Covenant, aside from mine, have any similarity, culturally, to you. And the similarities between Sangheili and Human culture are mostly superficial." That was another thing. He had seemed like little more than a soldier at first, like her, but he kept showing a different side, one that seemed younger, eager to learn, and more able to appreciate the simpler things in life.

"Um... Thank you," Six answered tentatively, unsure of whether or not to take what he had just said as a compliment. There was an awkward silence between them, before K'tal noticed something interesting to ask about.

"What is wrong with them?" he asked, pointing out a pair of drunks who had staggered out the door of a bar, one of whom collapsed bonelessly onto the sidewalk, and other slumping against the wall of the tavern, hiccuping. Her lip curled slightly in disgust at the sight of a marine, which the drunkard not sprawled out on the sidewalk seemed to be, judging from the off-duty fatigues he was wearing, in such a state. The drunk Marine seemed vaguely familiar, though she could not place his face.

"_That,"_ she said in a voice loaded with scorn for the drunk marine, "Is someone who has deliberately poisoned themselves with a lot of alcohol, just so they can get intoxicated past the point of being able to function properly."

"Your people willingly do this to themselves?" K'tal was incredulous.

"Unfortunately, yes." she answered with a sigh. "Most of the people who drink do so to forget bad times for a few hours, or to feel good about themselves. But I have never seen any point in messing up your own body that badly." She waved a hand in the direction of the drunkards, one of whom, who happened to be the one wearing the fatigues, had managed to stand up and stagger around, and who was now vomiting into a convenient empty metal barrel in the alley-space between the bar and the nearest building to its side. "I have had exactly one alcoholic drink in my life, which I hated."

Before she could say anything further, the drunk wearing the fatigues staggered over from where he had been hunched over the barrel to stand next to her. "Hey, babe," he slurred, and Six turned her head away to avoid smelling the reek of alcohol and vomit on his breath, "Wanna go out?" He tried to sling an arm around her shoulders, failing partially because of his drunkenness affecting his motor skills, and partially because he barely came up past her shoulder level. Six cooly pushed the offending limb away, and resisted the urge to punch the drunk. _He's intoxicated, _she told herself, _he's not properly in control of his actions._

Six heard a low rumbling sound coming from behind her, but the drunk Marine evidently didn't, and kept rambling. "Ya know, *hic*, I wash there on tha' Covvie ship, I shaw ya, an' I couldn' shtop thinkin' 'bought ya shinsh." Six realized who the Marine was. _He was part of the squad that escorted K'tal and I off the Covenant ship. He's the one that wolf-whistled at me! That __iyarashii__sukebe__kusottare!_

Six's rather angry train of thought was cut off when the rumbling increased in volume and lowered in pitch, and she saw out of the corner of her eye a dark shape rush past her, grabbing the Marine and pulling him along. She looked properly and saw K'tal standing several feet away, holding the drunk about two feet off the ground by his throat and against a wall, and emitting a growl that sounded like the snarling of a crocodile.

"Wha'sh wrong shplit-lip?" the drunk taunted. "I hit a nerve?" he chuckled. "She your girlfriend? Well I got newsh f'r you: she ain't, ain't never gonna be."

The drunk's smug tone tone turned to a watery gurgle as K'tal growled more loudly, pulled him away from the wall, and slammed him back into it forcefully and tightening his grip. Seeing the man's eyes begin to roll up into the back of his head and his struggles getting weaker, Six intervened.

"K'tal!" she barked,her tone icy cold. "Drop. Him. Now." K'tal looked at her, and she could see that his normally small nostrils were flared wide and his pupils had contracted to almost-impossibly-thin slits. He looked like an animal at that moment, and Six almost took a step back reflexively.

Growling an almost unintelligible affirmative, K'tal dropped the man to the sidewalk, where he curled in on himself and coughed spasmodically. Six glared at him. "Come. Now." she ordered, and he followed as she lead the way back to the airfield.

"What was that." she said; it was more a statement than a question.

"He was disrespecting you," K'tal answered. "I thought-"

"You thought _what, _exactly?" Six snapped. "I could have handled it, K'tal! I can take care of myself, and I don't know why you seem to think otherwise." Then, suddenly, things crystallized for her. She realized why he had been acting the way he had; why he had felt the need to nearly kill a man who had been disrespectful to her, and why he had seemed so protective of her in general. _No. It can't be..._

"Oh my God," she said, shocked, stopping abruptly. She turned to look at K'tal, and asked, in a small voice, "K'tal, do you have... _feelings_ for me?"

K'tal looked at her, then away, then at her again. Finally, he answered. "Yes."

**A/N: Please don't kill me! *cowers* Okay, once again, I am sorry for making you all wait so long for this chapter. I have had a load of school stuff to do, plus writer's block, plus I have a buttload of plot bunnies bouncing around in my head, nagging me with ideas for other stories. So, to keep myself from going insane, I am starting a new story, which I promised myself I wouldn't do while I had an active story to write, but I am apparently incapable of keeping promises to myself. By no means am I abandoning Lone Wolf, but my attention is going to be divided between this story and the other, and I still need to hammer out the details of what I want to do with this story.**

**In other news, I would like to announce that I am open to ideas for Six's real name. PM me with any ideas you have, but the names should preferably somehow reflect Six, and/or be Japanese in origin. I have a possible name, but more candidates are always welcome. **

**So, until next time, see ya!**

**~Hawk**

**PS-The insult Six uses is written in Japanese romanji for those who want to know, and if you want to translate it, be warned, it's fairly strong.**


	7. Reflection

**DISCLAIMER: Seriously, if I owned Halo, do you really think I would be here? No, and you know why? Because I would be busy making this crap canon. Well, that and rolling in my giant stacks of money.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES: **

**Halloween265: Thank you.**

"**blupin12": I'll think about it. Neither of those names seem like they really fit Six, but I will consider them and I appreciate your input. **

**Karl-591: Remember that nobody knows that the MC is running around on said giant hula-hoop. So why wouldn't they go visit some museums? Six wanted K'tal to learn a bit about human culture and history, and a museum is the quickest, easiest way for them to do so, as has already been said.**

**Manga154: That's easy to answer, because there is pretty much no way in hell that they are genetically compatible, so chances of them having a kid would be almost non-existent.**

**FireWolfFred: Indeed, you would not believe the number of plot ideas I have bouncing around, just from reading other fanfictions.**

"**Invader Jrek": Yeah... I know. I am surprised that you didn't notice the not-very-subtle hints I dropped in previous chapters, though.**

" "**: Thank you. But please check your spelling next time; that was a rather disturbing typo.**

**douchiesnacks: Thank you.**

**Spiny97: Yeah... That's not going to happen, rest assured. That would be unbelievably awkward.**

**ArbiterLover: Thanks.**

**Ninja named Steve: I think we're just going to have to agree to disagree on that point. I personally feel that it makes Noble Team more balanced gender-wise to have Six as a girl. In my opinion guy Six just feels like a Master Chief clone. If you want to read a story where Six is a guy and survives Reach, read Noble Wars, by Leader of Wolf Pack. It is the story I actually drew my inspiration from, and is quite good.**

**A/N: Well, last chapter had some mixed reception, what with K'tal confessing his feelings and all that jazz. Here's Chapter 7! Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER 7: REFLECTION**

**CAIRO STATION, SEPTEMBER 15, 2552, 1813 HOURS**

**K'TAL'S P.O.V.**

K'tal punched the wall of his quarters. _How could I be so stupid? _he thought, raging internally at himself. After K'tal had confessed that he held feelings for her, Six had hardly said a word for the rest of the evening, and only then to call him to follow her and other such things. They had gone back to the airfield and gotten a Pelican ride back to the orbital platform. It had been a quiet flight back, as K'tal thought over what had happened, and Six presumably did the same.

He replayed the scene in his mind again, as he had done dozens of times already. The man slandering Six, acting like she was an object. The overwhelming rush of purely instinctual protective rage. The dark, primal pleasure of slowly crushing the man's throat, of feeling him squirm like a gutted Doarmir in his grasp. The need, the desire to kill him, to rip and tear at his body with tooth and claw. The return to reality, Six snapping him out of the haze of mindless anger. The confession.

_WHY? Why did I lose control of myself like that?_

_ Obviously, _came the snide answer from another part of his mind, _It was because you want her. You see her as yours on an instinctual level. Hypocrite._

_ I... I could not control myself. I wanted to kill that human. And not with my blades, not in any civilized way. I wanted to rip and tear at him like an animal would... Why?_

_ Instinct. It is how your ancestors survived, and it will always dictate how you act, one way or another. Instinct will always trump common sense, control, and good reason. You know this._

_ Should I go apologize to Six for my actions? It is my fault, what happened; I should not have dropped a revelation like that on her. _

_ No. You know she needs time and space to process what happened. It is what anyone would need. You don't need anyone to tell you that._

_ I thought there was something there, between us. A connection._

_ There is. It just wasn't what you thought, and maybe never will be. Six is different. She trusts you, believes you have changed where others have not. She is, however, likely of the opinion that you simply pine for the company of other Sangheili, and have gravitated toward that which is most similar to them: her. You see some of the same qualities in her as in a Sangheili woman who is ideal mate-material, and so have latched onto that and allowed yourself to be blinded by instinct and emotion. If Six returns your feelings, she will say so in time. There is nothing you can do to influence her decision, you can merely accept her decision. If she rejects you, with luck, you will be able to keep the status quo in your relationship. If she reciprocates, you will not have to worry about that._

_ Thank you._

There was no response from the made-up voice. K'tal shook his head and sighed. Talking to himself; that was not a good sign.

He sat down heavily on his bed. Picking up his helmet, looking at the scarred surface, tracing the long, curved, years-old plasma scar. He thought of what it symbolized, what it made him seem like: a cold, faceless monster; a bogeyman; an enemy. But it was also something he could use to hide. It had allowed him, in his earlier years in the Covenant Spec Ops, to project an aura of unshakeable confidence, to bury his emotions under a mask and let no one know them.

Turning the helmet around in his grasp, K'tal slid it onto his head, locking it into place. He would not allow his loss of self-control ruin the working relationship he had with Six. He might not have any chance at being anything more meaningful than someone she worked with; but he would give Six time, and then attempt to salvage what he could of their relationship in any case. K'tal would be damned before he drove off the only human who would willingly interact with him because of some stupidity on his part.

...

**CAIRO STATION, SEPTEMBER 16, 2552, 1030 HOURS**

**SIX'S P.O.V.**

The rhythmic thuds of heavy strikes impacting a punching bag echoed through Cairo Station's empty gym. Six worked out her frustration on the bag as she thought over what had happened the night before. She had not expected what K'tal had said at all. However, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He had rescued her from the Covenant's clutches and turned his back on all he had ever known, all without any clear reason. He had visited her several times while she had been recovering, not staying long each time but staying long enough to ensure she was alright, again without any real reason. He had shown a highly protective side toward her, expressing thinly veiled hostility at any who seemed, to him at least, to be a threat to her. He had nearly killed a man for his attitude toward her, something that seemed out of place, based on how much self-restraint he seemed to be exercising at all times.

Minutes later, Six was standing in the locker room, looking at herself in the mirror. Why would he be interested in her? She had never really thought or cared about whether she could be considered attractive or desirable, and, looking in the mirror, she still didn't know. Features that were almost elfin; expressive, brown, slightly angular eyes, showing her Asian ancestry; short, messy dark hair contrasting with the pallor she had from being in armour at almost all times. She might've looked delicate, if not for her scars. One ran the length of her jaw line on the left side of her face, ending at her chin; the other along her cheekbone on the opposite side, before curving down across her cheek, toward her jaw. The last one was small, only about an inch long, and was just below her left eye. They showed her for the soldier she really was.

But why would he have any sort of interest in her? She had no answer. Perhaps he just thought he was interested in her out of loneliness. There certainly weren't any females of his species around, and she was the only female he ever interacted with on a regular basis. Perhaps that was it, though perhaps not.

Only one thing was certain. She was getting answers the next time she saw K'tal.

**A/N: Sorry about how short this chapter is compared to the wait time. I am having some fairly bad writer's block over on this end, for which I would like to apologize. Once I am onto the events of Halo 2 and have a solid framework to write with, plus, I hopefully will have managed to finish up this relationship stuff by then and do what I am actually good at - brutal combat! Yay!**

**On another note, have you guys seen the Halo 4 trailer? Wooooo, I'm psyched! Seriously, it is effing EPIC, and those of you who haven't watched it yet, need to, RIGHT NOW! Looks like 343 Industries isn't pissing around.**


	8. Reciprocation

**DISCLAIMER: I will own Halo the day you can play ice hockey in hell while pigs fly overhead keeping score.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Rhavis: Duh. Google it.**

**Halloween265: Thank you.**

"**Invader jrek": I know! I was like "WTF? That could've come in useful earlier!"**

**ArbiterLover: Thank you.**

**Touketsu HerutsuandNai Homare: I hope it does too, but armour will at least be customizable in multiplayer, hopefully.**

**Karl-591: Sorry, I don't think there're any psychiatrists that would treat K'tal, him being the big, scary alien that he is. Plus, he wouldn't be able to fit on the couch, nor do I think it could support his weight.**

**Hal44: Thank you.**

"**Random Reader": Yes, yes it could.**

**Oblivion's Oathkeeper: Thanks.**

**Kirei Ryuusei: Yeah, K'tal's a tad loopy. **

**RamenKnight: No, just reviews.**

"**Wolf": Thanks.**

"**dj": That's your preference. However, in canon, Spec Ops Officers (i.e.. K'tal) have jet-black armour. I prefer black because it kicks ass.**

**Manga154: Thanks.**

**WildCard-Yes Man: Done.**

**Falcon87456: That's my plan. **

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Sorry about my absence. Here's Chapter 8!**

**KEY: **

"Speech"

'_Thoughts'_

**CHAPTER 8: RECIPROCATION**

**CAIRO STATION, SEPTEMBER 16, 2552, 1105 HOURS**

**K'TAL**

After waking up, K'tal went through his morning routine: two hours of meditation, followed by an hour of exercises and practicing techniques for unarmed hand-to-hand combat in extreme close quarters; the small size of his room had come in handy for that. After that, it had been an hour of sword exercises, with the swords disabled, of course; no reason to possibly damage something important.

After the sword exercises, he spent an hour working on increasing his ability to speak English, as the humans called it. The humans' language was difficult for him to speak, as his mouth was a different shape, and his larynx had difficulty making some of the noises required, but he was improving.

After that, he went to eat his morning meal. The marines had by now acclimated to the Sangheili living on the station who always came into the cafeteria at exactly the same times every day, got two silver wrapped packets from the mess sergeant, and sat in the far corner where he could watch all the doors while he ate.

"Hey," a human greeted, sitting down at K'tal's table with his tray. K'tal nodded politely, then went back to gnawing a piece of dried purple meat from the Sangheili equivalent of an MRE.

"What's that?" the human asked, gesturing at the meat K'tal was gnawing.

K'tal stopped chewing. "Narthak jerky." he answered.

"Huh?" The human was confused.

"Narthak," K'tal said, making sure the human heard clearly how it was pronounced. "Grazing animal. Native to my homeworld. About the size of a Wraith. We raise them for meat and eggs."

"If they're that big, how do you, you know, keep them corralled, or whatever?"

"Narthak are very docile. They have very few natural predators once they reach full adult size, and they are only ever hostile when defending their young. Even then, they never go further than bellowing and flaring their crests."

"Okay," the human blinked, obviously still a little confused, gestured at a small part of K'tal's sectioned-off tray containing azure paste mixed with a liberal amount of hard chips and flakes coloured off-white, "What's that?"

"Bonemeal. Sangheili make it out of Narthak bones after they slaughter them. The bones split open and the marrow is removed and dehydrated, and the bones themselves are ground up into flakes. Then the dehydrated marrow and the bone flakes are mixed together along with vitamin supplements and vacuum-sealed. You add water before eating it and you can go all day on nothing else if absolutely necessary." K'tal explained, then chuckled at the look of semi-disgust on the human's face. "Yes, I eat bones; Sangheili are carnivores, after all."

"That sounds, uh . . . interesting," the human said weakly. "Is it any good?"

"You mean the taste?" K'tal asked. "No. Bonemeal tastes awful. It keeps you going though, which is what counts." he held up another piece of jerky, having eaten the other piece. "The jerky, on the other hand, is quite good, if a bit dry. It's the only reason a lot of Sangheili ever eat these meals. We use the jerky to 'wash the bonemeal down,' so to speak."

"Uh," the human said, evidently trying to phrase a question, "Could I maybe, uh, try some?" He pointed at the jerky.

"Certainly," K'tal answered. He picked up a new piece, carefully tore off a small piece, about an inch long, then handed the strip to the human. "Be warned though, it is very tough."

The human looked carefully at the purple meat, then hesitantly popped the meat in his mouth and started chewing, with visible difficulty. His eyes widened a fraction. "This isn't bad," he said around the piece of meat, "A little funny tasting, and really hard to chew, but not bad. Not as good as beef, but that's just what I think, being a human and all."

"What is 'beef?'" K'tal asked. The word felt strange to pronounce.

"Well I guess that's fair. You told me about your food; I might as well do the same. Beef is . . . well I guess you could call it our equivalent of your Narthak thing. It's the general name for meat we get from cows, which are herd animals we raise for meat and milk. Or at least we used to anyway."

"What is milk used for?" K'tal asked, head tilting to the side quizzically, "I know what it is, more or less, we have some mammals on Sanghelios that produce it to feed their young, but nothing beyond that. And what do you mean 'used to?'"

"To your first question. Milk and things made from milk, like butter or cheese, is a major part of what we eat, it's actually a whole food group on its own and it's where we get most of our calcium."

K'tal nodded; he understood. Sangheili got all of their calcium directly by eating bones and eggshells, but he could see how other races might need to get it differently.

"Second question. By 'used to,' I mean that cows can't be raised commercially any more. There's not enough farmland left that we could use to farm cattle any more, all of it is used for other stuff. Traditional farming wouldn't supply enough beef anyway; there're too many people on Earth now. It's more convenient to just grow the meat artificially."

K'tal nodded. The Sangheili had encountered that problem earlier on in their history, though it had been solved after they founded their first colony and dedicated it to food production.

"So," the human spoke up again. "Why do you always sit alone over here?"

K'tal shrugged. "I can watch the doors from here. And I sit alone because I doubt any of you want me sitting next to them," he answered matter-of-factly. "Plus, I have more leg-room at an empty table." It was true. K'tal was only comfortable sitting at the table because he was able to stretch his legs out underneath, which he wouldn't be able to do it there were very many humans sitting at the table as well.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

...

**1 HOUR LATER**

K'tal walked into the armoury, intent on doing maintenance to his weapons. He had been neglecting it since he had come to the station, and the old Sangheili who had trained him as a swordmaster was probably rolling in his grave because of it.

Truthfully though, that was just an excuse for him. Going over the events of the previous night, K'tal was even more certain that he had made a terrible error in judgment, and no amount of giving himself mental pep talks and advice was helping. He needed to distract himself, and doing so by immersing himself in the simple monotony of weapons maintenance sounded delightful at the moment.

"Hey," the human in charge of the armoury said distractedly, not looking up from the rifle he was reassembling.

K'tal cleared his throat loudly, getting the human to look up from his task. The human jumped, and nervously asked, "Uh, what can I do for you?"

"I would like to know where you have my weapons stored," K'tal said. "I need to perform maintenance on them."

"Oh," the human said, noticeably calming down, "Normally it would be my job to do that, but I have no idea how to work on the weapons you brought. Come on, I'll show you where they're kept."

K'tal nodded in agreement, and they walked over to a counter off to the side of the armoury. The human opened a compartment on the wall next to the counter and started hefting K'tal's various armaments out of it. K'tal stopped him and said, "Don't bother. I can get these out myself, and I was going to work on my swords first anyway."

"Alright," the human agreed, "But make sure you close up the compartment afterward. This is an armoury; I don't want unsecured things shifting around in here. So of it is explosive."

K'tal nodded, then turned to the counter and laid out his sword handles on it. Removing the power cells and setting them to the side, he unclipped his field kit and laid it out on the counter as well, then took a small bundle of weapon maintenance tools wrapped in a soft cloth out.

For the next while, K'tal worked slowly through cleaning all of his weapons, starting with his swords and finishing with his needle rifle; scraping plasma lines clear of the residue from discharge and coolant, picking fragments of needler crystal out of vents so they would not clog, and lubricating firing mechanisms. He was so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the sound of footfalls behind him, and so he was taken completely by surprise by the sound of someone greeting him.

"Hello, K'tal."

...

**SIX**

Six went looking for K'tal after she finished her workout. She knew that it was probably going to be difficult to find him, given that he didn't really have a fixed schedule that she knew of beyond the times that he ate at.

On a hunch, she decided to check the armoury. Maybe he would be there doing weapons maintenance. If he was feeling as strangely about the incident the previous night as she was, he might be looking for something to take his mind off of it, and weapons maintenance had proven, for her at least, as a great way to distract oneself from dwelling on something.

Walking into the armoury, she immediately noticed the hulking figure of K'tal off to the side, working on something. He seemed completely oblivious to everything except whatever he was working on, and obviously didn't hear her walk up behind him.

Six paused just as she was going to call out to him. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to say. Nobody had ever expressed . . . feelings . . . for her before. This was likely a result of the fact that the only people that could have had even a small chance of relating with her in any meaningful way were other Spartans, with whom relationships beyond friendship and camaraderie were basically impossible; not to mention the fact that the Spartans, for the most part, all regarded each other like siblings. And Spartans never really had the time nor the inclination to start shacking up with anyone.

But when K'tal admitted how he felt to Six, it sparked a number of emotions within her, one of which - despite how she might want to deny it - was longing. Six had always been the outcast: she never had any friends at her playschool on Jericho VII, she had been distant from her parents, then when brought to Onyx for the Spartan program, she had been the loner freak that all the other children teased and taunted. That had been the real impetus for her "lone wolf" tendencies. She had thrown herself into the training, pushing herself to her absolute limits and then some, determined to prove herself, both to the others and to herself. When they did sparring, she was the most aggressive and the least willing to tap out, an attitude that earned the nickname of "Little Wolverine" from the hand-to-hand instructors, though whether it was complimentary or not was debatable. When she had been pulled from Beta Company and assigned as a black ops agent, she had been simultaneously ecstatic and depressed. On the one hand, she was free from the other trainees; though the taunting had stopped as the other children matured, she had always been the odd one out, and it was nice to finally be away from it all. On the other, it meant she had basically wasted her efforts while training. She had wanted to make something of herself, and it had come back to bite her in the ass. Noble Team was really the first time Six had really felt like a part of something, and they all got killed, except for Jun, and she didn't know _what _exactly happened to him.

All in all, Six was rather starved for positive influences in her life, and now K'tal had dumped his confession on her. And she really didn't know what to think.

'_Would it really be so bad if this is something I want?' _she thought. _'I never really had a chance at being normal. Maybe all I want is a small taste of what a normal life might be like. So what if he's not human; its not like I can relate to other humans anyway.'_

His response in itself was both startling and a little funny. K'tal's head snapped up sharply at the sound of his name and it bashed against a low hanging lamp that was illuminating the worktable he was at.

He clutched at the spot he had hit against the lamp and hissed something harsh-sounding that was probably a curse. K'tal then turned around and tersely said, "Yes?" Then he saw it was her that had spoken.

"Oh, my apologies, Six," he apologized, not looking at her. He glanced back at the counter he had been hunched over. "I was doing some long-overdue weapons maintenance."

"K'tal," Six said, "I want to talk about last night."

K'tal blinked several times rapidly, and his mandibles twitched, then he seemed to finish processing what she said. "Uh, yes," he said, seeming to get flustered, and he reached back to rub the back of his neck in a strangely human gesture, "I was meaning to talk to you about that as well. I realize that I acted rashly last night, and..."

Six was only half-listening as K'tal rambled. Her lips quirked upwards; it was somewhat funny to watch him like this.

K'tal's chattering was starting to get a little irritating, though, and Six couldn't really think of a good way to get him to stop. Except one. _'Ah, hell with it,' _she thought, and she raised her hands and set one on each side of his head, lightly gripping the curves of his lower jawline, feeling the slight roughness of his skin, and gently drew his head down closer to hers. He had smartly closed his mandibles, likely so he would not accidentally nick one of her hands with a tooth.

"You talk too much sometimes," she said softly, their faces only a couple of inches apart. She could see right into his eyes, the brilliant green orbs seeming to draw her in. She ran her thumb over his cheek, lightly brushing his scar. She closed the short distance between them and pressed her lips to his closed mandibles in a soft kiss.

**A/N: And there was Chapter 8, with my attempt at a sappy, fluffy chapter ending. Please review and tell me how I did and whether you thought it was good or bad or whatever.**

**Also, to those of you who are going to say something along the lines of "oh, you made the romance go too quickly", or whatever (you know who you are), sorry, I know I probably went a bit too fast with it, but I was annoyed and frustrated with writing this chapter as I have been attempting to fight through writer's block for like two months. And getting through the romance subplot is pissing me off, as I have no experience in writing anything similar to work from. **

**Review please, and if you have criticism, that's great, just make sure it's of the constructive variety. So no flames!**


	9. A Letter

Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.

I, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that (I believe) violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in it's original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be looseing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

For those that may agree with this, please fell free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

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